


Destabilization

by calmena



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, obsessed!Tony, scheming!Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:31:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmena/pseuds/calmena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haunted by dreams and shadows, Tony starts doubting his mind - and his position on the Avengers. Everything seems to be pointing towards Loki, nowadays, but isn't he supposed to be in Asgard?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I finally decided to start posting this. A huge thank you to my beta qwanderer (on tumblr), who is great and amazingly helpful. She helps me make my writing into proper English.

_The blue light of the scepter flickers as it touches his arc reactor and for a brief, breathtaking moment Tony thinks that's it. That's how he ends. Not in a blaze of glory, saving the world from something horrible, but because Loki twists him around so thoroughly SHIELD is forced to take him down. No way to “recalibrate“ him when he's got his helmet on, oh shit._

_He's mentally devising ways to get JARVIS to maybe hold back the helmet when he deploys the new suit, but that won't work if his mind is overrun by Loki. Only then does he notice that he's still himself and Loki is looking at the scepter in confusion, blue in his eyes flickering similarly to how the staff had flickered, but only a moment before the color stabilizes and he lifts the thing away to try again and_ – wait.

Tony's mind screeches to a halt, replays the scene. Again, the eyes flicker in a way that looks pretty unnatural and he opens his own eyes, addresses JARVIS.

“Be a dear and replay the footage from the Chitauri invasion. You know, the staff thing.”

As if he'd waited for the perfect moment, that is when another person in his workshop speaks up, startling him so deeply the screwdriver he'd had in his hand clatters to the floor.

“Stark.”

Turning hurriedly, because the voice is one he's familiar with and he wants to avoid getting skewered by a scepter or something – Pepper would kill him for upsetting his work schedule like that – Tony forces a smile to his lips. It probably comes out more like a grimace, but Loki's not looking too hot himself, so he probably doesn't even notice and if he does he has no ground to stand on, because hello, pot, kettle.

On that thought, he hadn't seemed to be too great when he'd invaded either, so maybe that's a moot point, anyway.

“I would have your help, Stark,” Loki says then, imperiously like he has every right to it. Tony would have laughed, under normal circumstances. As it is, he's pretty afraid for his own life if he _doesn't_ lend a hand. Not even because of Loki himself (mainly because the wound that is revealed when he lifts his hand away from where he'd had it clenched to his side looks pretty damn bloody and woah, can he actually see _bone_ there?).

Anyway, yes, he's pretty fond of his life and the main reason having a dead trickster god in his workshop would suck is because he's pretty sure Thor would skin him. And someone would have to clean it up and just for that, Pepper would kill him.

“Tony!” Pepper's voice interrupts his musings and he looks up in surprise because he hadn't heard her coming and oh god, how does he explain Loki being here to her when he can't even explain it to himself? - only to find that she isn't there, which makes no sense, because his workshop is pretty much soundproof. When he looks back, Loki has vanished and he blinks, because god or no, he'd looked dead on his feet so he considers teleporting to be quite a feat.

“Tony!”

“What?!” he asks, distantly aware of the annoyance in his voice, but that's okay, because this makes no sense anyway. There's a huff and a flick against his forehead.

“Don't take that tone with me. Open your eyes and I won't be forced to get the water bucket to make sure you'll actually get up.” 

That sounds suspiciously like something Pepper would say, he thinks and oh, when had he closed his eyes anyway? Weird.

It is even weirder, however, when he opens his eyes and is actually in his bed, far away (well, okay, he thinks, maybe not far, but a reasonable distance, at least) from his workshop.

“JARVIS?” he asks after Pepper's stormed out of his bedroom in a huff (she didn't used to be quite so upset with him when she'd _woken up_ with him, a small part of him can't help thinking and if there was a way, he'd shut it up violently). 

“When did I go to bed?” Because he really can't remember and while he's usually in a daze when he's been in a build-things-spell, he tends to still remember going to sleep somewhat, at least. And he hadn't even been in one of those phases the last few days, so there's really no reason for not remembering. He's been getting semi-regular sleep, even.

_“Sir?”_

He'll never figure out how JARVIS got that tone down. He can't remember programming a voice full of quite so much concern into the AI. Must be a glitch in the code. Maybe some part of the program doesn't work quite the way it should. He's pretty sure it works perfectly, but maybe the parameters-

_“Sir, if you don't respond I'll be forced to call Miss Potts.”_

“Yeah, yeah, I'm listening. Hit me.”

_“You went to bed at two thirty-six.”_

Huh, seems a little early for him. And he can't remember it. Suspicious.

“Anything weird about that?” he asks JARVIS, because let's face it, if he didn't catch anything, there probably _was_ nothing. He can practically feel the frown as JARVIS answers and yeah, no. Definitely not programmed that.

_“I am not sure I quite understand. It was approximately one hour and twenty-one minutes earlier than normally, but there was nothing strange about the occurrence, other than the fact that it took place.”_

“Yeah, got that, thanks JARVIS.”

 _“Always glad to be of service, sir!”_ JARVIS responds cheerfully. If the AI didn't use his sass on _him_ , Tony would be proud of his progress. As it is, he's too lost in his head to think much about that anyway. Because if nobody/nothing strange had turned up that either meant all this was just his brain playing tricks on his mind or... magic. Which probably means Loki, let's face it, because Tony can't imagine Doom pulling off a stunt so great as to actually, you know, break into his brain. Or work, in the first place.

However, considering they haven't heard anything regarding Loki from Asgard since he was carted off there by Thor, he figures it's most likely just his overactive imagination causing him to see things where there's really only a dream.

Shaking off the thought, he finally leaves his bed because if he stays there any longer he really will miss even the last five minutes of the board meeting and he's disconcertingly sure Pepper really will kill him in that case.

* * *

There's a whisper of air against the shell of his ear. Swiping at it with his fingers does nothing and he grumbles irritatedly, trying harder to get whatever it is that's bothering him away from his skin, right up until there's a deep laugh that sounds like the person is right next to him. Before he has the chance to startle, it breathes words into his ear, then disappears along with what had been bothering him.

“I'll be coming for you.”

All the tiredness that would normally be left over, because he'd only just fallen asleep, really and how inhuman was the god, to not allow him his rest, anyway? Anyway, the tiredness is gone, replaced with icy awareness that pounds a steady rhythm of “Not good. Not good. Not good” in his head. It had been Loki's voice.

“There was nobody in this room just now, right?” he asks JARVIS. “Any disturbances? Changes in the air? Unusual particles suddenly appearing? _Anything_?”

He almost hopes something will turn up, just so he knows that he's not going crazy, because dreaming of Loki twice in as many days after three weeks of silence since he'd gone to Asgard with Thor doesn't bode well. He might not know what it means, but it can't be good.

_“Scans complete. No, sir. There was nothing unusual. Again. Is there anything I should be paying special attention to?”_

“My sanity, apparently,” Tony murmurs mostly to himself, heading for the bar. He needs a drink now, even if it's only barely noon.

 _“I already do that, anyway, sir,”_ JARVIS quips back, but it's not quite as light-hearted as it usually is. He probably knows that something's not okay, even if he doesn't know what, because there's nothing to account for it, Tony theorizes. He'd love to reassure his AI, but he can't do that, because he doesn't know what's going on, himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might have been a little short, but the chapters will get longer, I promise.


	2. Chapter 1

There's another dream, but he doesn't know that by this point. He just knows he's falling out of the window, falling down and down and _down_ and the armor isn't in time to stop him from hitting the ground. 

He feels every bone in his body break, splinter and push its way into his flesh, from the inside out. He can feel his skull rupturing and his brain splattering over the pavement and that's when he thinks that there's something not quite right about it, that this _can't be real_. 

As if waiting for the realization, the dream ends, abruptly as only the worst of all nightmares do, and Tony finds himself staring at the ceiling, heart beating a frantic pulse in his chest. Phantom pains are still tingling over his body, as if he really had splattered himself all over the ground and his body is confused, because there are no injuries – Tony knows, he checks, the urge to reassure himself of his own well-being too pressing to ignore. 

It's only after this that he can go back to bed, and even then sleep evades him, his mind urging him to patch himself up, to do his best to push the brain matter that's (not) spread over the floor back where it belongs, not that it would be possible if his dream had been real, but terrors like that are never logical in the urges they leave behind.

Drawing the sheets tighter around himself, Tony knows that the pictures won't leave him alone just like that. The fact that he knows this leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but there's no ignoring the fact that nightmares are nothing new to him. As bad as it sounds, he got used to them after Afghanistan – as much as you can ever get used to something like that, that is, which isn't really all that much after all. 

But he started working around them, using Iron Man to burn off what energy he had, putting work into making things better, not just for himself but also for the rest of the world because he owed them _something_ after letting Obadiah supply the entire world with weapons, not differentiating between ally and enemy.

But this isn't like that. This has never happened to him, exactly, so he doesn't know what his subconscious wants to tell him. He can't use this as an incentive to better himself. He already sleeps as little as he can get away with; depriving his body of REM-phases doesn't work. His brain just continues on throwing horror visions at him.

There is no reason for these new nightmares to turn up, especially because he hadn't even considered the fall from his tower to be as traumatizing as his mind had apparently thought it to be, if the way it seemed to need to work through it in dreams was any indication.

Or maybe his brain is confusing the two falls, he thinks, snorting. Because if there had been anything during the fight that might have had the potential of shaking him a little, it had been seeing the incredible resources the alien army had had to destroy them. It still boggles his mind, just a little, to think that all those things could have come to destroy their planet, had the portal been big enough to allow it....

At some point during his musings, he must fall asleep again, because the next time Tony opens his eyes, JARVIS is telling him the time and date and that the sun is shining and there is a moment where he wants to close them again and just lie there, glad that the nightmare didn't come back.

“ _This time_ ,” a vicious voice in the back of his brain reminds him, but he ignores it, because he can.

“Thanks, JARVIS,” he says instead, bracing himself before getting up, using the cold chill from the floor to center him, to remind him that yes, this is real. He is neither falling from the tower, nor is he getting strangled or drowned or is back in Afghanistan. It bears repetition, because in his head everything is turned around and it's... weird.

Glancing out of the window, he frowns for a moment because he would have sworn there was a shadow right there, in the corner of his eye. He'd thought it might be a dark cloud, half a thought to ask JARVIS why he hadn't mentioned the rainclouds in the sky in his weather report of the day, but there is nothing. Shaking his head, he mutters “crazy” to himself, smiling a dark smile as he thinks that a holiday might be what he needs, before actually going to the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

Or the lab. Whatever it ends up being.

* * *

The lab wins out over stockholder meetings and signing things (read: actually working), because the shadow thing _keeps happening_ and for once he's glad Pepper is not there to ask him what's going on, anymore, because he'd hate having to lie to her.

Tony snorts at the thought of telling her that there's something hiding in the corner of his eyes, because that's what it is. It's a constant shadow just out of his sight; he only sees glimpses and not even that. It drives him crazy. It's in the mirrors right before he turns just the right way, in glasses he uses to drink, in the windows when he looks at the city outside. Everything reflects just a dark blur, something he would normally say is his imagination, but this is too much. He never was overly prone to seeing things that aren't there, and this is taking the cake.

“JARVIS, pull up the camera feed of my day so far,” he says, when he's finally had enough, because he still doesn't know what that damned shadow is; it keeps evading his sight and he doesn't accept it being his imagination, because it's just not.

 _“Right away, sir.”_ JARVIS sounds confused about it, but he doesn't say anything, bless him, just starts playing the recordings.

Tony spends the next few hours going over detail of his own days, stopping the recording countless times because he thinks he's spotted something. It always ends up being nothing and at some point even JARVIS starts sounding doubtful, which he hadn't ever thought could happen but it did and it's the fault of whatever it is that's stalking him. It makes him want to throw things, but he doesn't, because that wouldn't make him seem any saner than looking for things that are, for all signs and purposes, not there.

 _“Are you sure there really_ is _something, sir?”_

He doesn't even bother answering, just keeps watching himself go about his day, not that anything comes out of it, but he keeps hoping right up until he runs out of recorded material.

There are still other ways, though, he figures, and gets out his other equipment. He is nothing if not resourceful and by the time the sun goes down (not that he notices. The light in his lab is as bright as ever, because it isn't natural) he has tried everything to get more than just glimpses of the shadow hiding in the corner of his eyes. But none of the heat sensitive cameras, or radiation detectors or any of his equipment had picked up anything, not even a hint.

Tony is close to clawing at his skin in frustration, but instead just throws away what he'd been holding and goes up to the kitchen, where he lets himself fall into a chair. Bruce is making tea, but he looks up from where he is fiddling with a tea bag to greet him. He doesn't even seem to be surprised to see Tony sitting at the table, head plunked on the surface of it.

“Project not going well?” he asks absently as he pulls out a second mug and fills it with tea, before setting it down in front of him. He doesn't even wait for Tony to answer, but it's probably pretty obvious something's not working as it should. Even if in this case, it seems to be Tony's head, but Bruce doesn't know that.

“Maybe you should get some sleep and try looking at it with fresh eyes tomorrow?”

A part of Tony – the part that can't ignore the dark shadow just out of his sight, even now – wants to continue on until he finds something that proves he's not seeing things. But the bigger part knows Bruce is right, so he nods slowly as he wraps his hands around the mug in front of him. 

The heat from the tea seeps through the ceramic and into his skin and it's only then that he notices the chill in his fingers. Suddenly the tea seems like a great idea, if only because it'll warm him up. Normally, he prefers coffee over tea any day, but just this once he can see its merits because by the time he's finished it, even the most stubborn coldness has vanished from his limbs. He only feels warm and, yes, tired now. He can't even muster up the motivation to be on the lookout for his stalker-shadow right now.

Smiling weakly at Bruce, who is still nursing about half of his tea, he gets up and puts his mug in the sink.

“Thanks, Bruce. I needed that.”

Bruce doesn't comment, he just smiles and gives a nod of acknowledgement.

Tony can feel his worried eyes on his back all the way out of the door and has to suppress a curse.

* * *

He doesn't have a nightmare, this time. Waking up in the morning after a good night of sleep, Tony doesn't know why he'd been so on edge the day before. So what if he sees things in the corner of his eyes? He is going to figure it out, like he always does. It's just something new, so it's nothing special that it's taking him a little longer than usual to solve the problem.

Throwing the bedspread aside, he stretches, his mind already on methods he hasn't already tried before. There are quite a few he hadn't taken into account the day before.

“Shame on me,” he mutters to himself, getting up.

And then he is falling.

Only, it's not falling, really, because it feels like he – and everything around him – is still. The scientist in him is burning to figure out what and _where_ this is and how it's possible for his surroundings to confuse his senses so profusely, he has no idea if he's falling or standing still. This is what it must be like to be in a black hole, he thinks, fascinated despite himself. Only, not really, because if this were a black hole he'd be a tiny, little piece of matter by now, but the sentiment is there. Or something.

Pursing his lips, he waves his hand in front of his eyes, just to see if he can. (He can.)

“You do react quite a lot better to this than I thought you would,” a voice says then, and Tony closes his eyes, because no.

“Go away, Loki.”

For a moment there is silence and Tony actually thinks that Loki listened and _did_ go away. Only, not. Because when does that guy ever do as he is told? So he isn't really surprised when instead of blessed silence and peace, there is a hand around his throat barely a second later.

“Seriously, do you have a thing for choking me?” he asks, because the part of his brain that is sane is offline right now. As it is most of the time, he thinks absently, trying to pull away the fingers cutting off his air, not that it helps because oh, right. God.

Loki doesn't answer, but the fingers on his throat flex a little, just enough for them to constrict his airways that small bit more to make breathing impossible, only for a second.

“You are aware that I could kill you like this?”

Loki sounds puzzled, like he's surprised anyone would be stupid enough to try to irritate him when he's got their life in his hand (literally, actually). Tony thinks he shouldn't be, it's nothing new after all, because that one quip with the performance issues had been nothing else than provocation.

“Well, I'm holding out for this being a dream, since in reality you're just a _shadow_ in my memory, nowadays.”

It's a hunch, nothing more. Tony expects Loki to react with derision, because he never seems to appreciate his word games, but instead the god snorts, something so absolutely uncharacteristic of the guy, Tony almost stares. But then there's the usual snarky grin and all is back to normal.

“Clever of you, Stark.”

And then he is back in his bedroom, blinking into the sun as he stands next to his bed.

* * *

He doesn't get peace after that dream (because he's come to the conclusion that this is what it had been). Even for him, falling asleep while _standing_ isn't something he does, especially after he's just gotten up after more than five hours of sleep. But still, there it is on the screen – him getting out of the bed and just... stopping. For ten minutes.

Leaning back in his chair, he draws his fingers through his hair. By this point it probably resembles a bird's nest more than anything else, but he's more concerned with the fact that he had zoned out (so thoroughly he hadn't heard JARVIS' calls) than his appearance.

Something's wrong with him and he doesn't know what and that doesn't sit well with him. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Tony, it'll only get ~~better~~ worse.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has actually been finished and beta read forever, I just... couldn't bring myself to update it. I'm very sorry for that. However, since my muse has come back with vengeance now, I decided that yes, this really has to be uploaded. Also, since I get to see IM3 on May 1st; I needed to celebrate that somehow.

Even if Tony doesn't believe that dreams are usually trying to tell him something, this time he decides to look into it. Maybe his subconscious has something figured out that he hasn't, and this is his sign to get his ass in gear. Or something like that.

If nothing else, the shadowy stalker distracts him from the fact that Pepper isn't there to keep him from working day and night, not anymore. Or that she's not really his best friend at the moment, either, and there's the fact that he misses that almost more than the sex, which, with him being Tony Stark, is... strange.

Adding that to the fact that Rhodey is on some sort of super-secret military mission and not currently available to annoy (not that Tony couldn't find out anyway, but he just... doesn't have the drive to do so, at the moment), and it is what it is: Tony inventing stuff whenever Bruce doesn't put food in his hands (which he does surprisingly often, all things considered).

In the end Pepper _does_ come to get him out of his lab, if only to tell him that there's a party for the Avengers, a thank you for saving the city, or at least that's what it says on the package. Tony knows making a charity party is really just a way for the city to get money for the renovations still left after the alien invasion. Anyway, according to Pepper, Tony has to be there, because Bruce can't go for obvious reasons and the only other Avengers currently available are Tony and Steve.

When Tony asks, "Why do I have to go, then? Steve would do awesomely on his own, I'm sure," Pepper looks at him with disappointment, and _ouch_. That's a secret weapon, right there. Then she proceeds to tell him that the whole party is for them, so they have to make an effort and just one Avenger attending would look shoddy.

Under ordinary circumstances, he still wouldn't care, because while Pepper told him about it, the whole thing has _Fury's order_ stamped all over it and he has things to do, important things, like proving to himself that he's not going insane. But then, he is also overdue with another conquest and it almost seems like the gossip rags are missing him, so whatever. He wouldn't want them to think he's died or anything like that, after all.

The fact that Pepper has that exhausted look on her face, the one that says she thinks Tony is going to do something to disappoint her anyway, the look that hurts somewhere deep in his chest, has nothing at all to do with the fact that he gives in so readily (or what he considers to be readily, anyway).

* * *

"Behave, Tony, okay? I'm not joking."

He nods; having heard the speech twice already, he doesn't need to be reminded again. No drinking, no behaving outrageously, no sex in public. Well, maybe the last one hasn't been said out loud, but he's pretty sure Pepper is thinking it, probably as much for her sake as for that of his reputation. And there's the fact that his stockholders seem to hate it when his naked ass ends up on the cover of a gossip rag – even if it's a really nice ass, if he dare say so.

He also already knows that by the end of the night, he'll have broken at least one of Pepper's rules, because he doesn't even have the intention of not drinking. Not when the shadow keeps on flicking in and out of the edge of his vision, not when the nightmare he had last night is still in the forefront of his mind, as is the machine he'd been in the process of building when Pepper had pulled him from his lab. 

He's basing it on the assumption that it really is Loki who's stalking him, and that the "magic" Loki uses is anything like the energy Thor's hammer emits, because then he has a starting point. SHIELD had more than enough data on that, from the time Thor hadn't been able to get it up (ha ha). If it's not Loki, he has nothing still and maybe it's that thought that keeps him from taking different possibilities into account.

Noticing that Pepper hasn't said anything for a while now, Tony blinks, then blinks again in surprise when he notices that he's actually already sitting in the car, not knowing how he got there. That he's currently being driven to a party he doesn't want to go to, has to be a first. But there are whispers moving up and down the side of his throat like someone's breathing on him and it sends shivers through him, because nobody is there. Under normal circumstances he'd be able to dismiss it, but with all the things that are currently happening to him, it's just a little too much to be comfortable with.

"Mr. Stark?"

"I'm fine," he says reflexively, not even noticing that the car's stopped.

"I know. I just wanted to tell you we've arrived."

Forcing himself to pay attention to his surroundings and not just on, you know, not paying attention to his shadow (and when did it start being _his_ shadow, anyway?), Tony notices that Happy is right. 

"I knew that."

For once he's glad for the bright flashes of photographs being taken, as he gets out of the car, because through them he can't see the shadow following him, even if he can still feel it. His mind tells him he's just imagining things now, because he's never felt it before, but another part of him shivers at the cool breeze he feels against his ear, as if someone is holding a handful of snow against it. The fact that he knows it's probably just the wind doesn't help the part of his brain that is slowly becoming paranoid.

"Stark!" he hears as he walks through the doors, and he doesn't even wait to get a glimpse of the dear Captain before he turns in a different direction, away from the man. They might be part of the same team, but things are still strained between them, as evidenced by the use of his last name, and he doesn't want to deal with this tonight. He could, yes. But he doesn't want to, because with the tension he's feeling he'd probably jump at Captain America's throat. That would be awkward, he thinks, and allows himself a little smirk at the thought.

Instead of actually trying to talk to someone, Tony turns into the direction of the bar, because let's face it, that's where he's going to be for most of the night. This is going to be _boring_ , he thinks, glaring at the people nearest to him as if it's their fault, which, for all he knows, it could be. He hasn't actually asked who the organizer of this thing is. Rogers would probably be able to tell him, he thinks. The guy is perfect at schmoozing unsuspecting people. It's a little superfluous he'd had to come as well, because if he's honest with himself, he's pretty liable to make their situation worse, rather than better.

He walks past the people waiting to order, picking up a drink the waiter prepares for him as soon as he's in sight. At least he's competent and knows his stuff, Tony figures, snorting, as he grabs the glass and is off. Nobody says anything about him jumping the line, though if that's because this party is to his (the Avengers' really, but same difference) honor or because he's Tony Stark is anyone's guess.

He thinks it's probably both, but whatever.

It takes a surprisingly long time until someone decides to bother him. Still, when he hears shoes (even if they're a woman's shoes) coming up beside him he has half a mind to snap at whoever it ends up being, because he's irritated. The music sucks, the people are horrible and Rogers had seen him a little while ago, so it's only a question of time until the guy comes up to him and tells him to _mingle_ , which, no, really not. Anyway, all in all, he's really fucking unhappy with the situation.

However, when he actually lays eyes on the person coming up to him, he suddenly remembers his _other_ intention for the evening.

Her dress is a marvel, that's the first thing he notices. A slinky little number, hiding _just_ enough to still be appropriate and showing off her considerable... _assets_. It's the same brilliant green as her eyes, and something's niggling in the back of his head, but he can't, for the life of him, figure out what it is and after she's smiled a seductive smile at him, looking down at him from behind dark brown hair (yes, so she's taller than him, who the fuck isn't? Whatever), he doesn't bother to even try to work it out.

"Hello," Tony says and that's as far as he gets because suddenly Rogers is in front of him and talking, why is he talking? Doesn't he see that Tony is busy? Well, not yet, but he will be soon, if Rogers will fucking leave him alone.

He's saying something about socializing and drinking less and that's the point where Tony stops listening, right up until the perfect specimen of a woman next to him softly clears her throat.

"Nice to meet you," she says, still softly but it's enough to get Rogers to stop in his tracks and, after a look at her dress that is obviously involuntary, blush to the roots of his hair. Tony wants to cackle, but he'd probably alienate the woman with that and yeah, he's still hoping to get _busy_ , later on, so he'd rather not.

"Oh, I'm so sorry ma'am," Rogers rushes, holding out his hand to either shake or kiss hers, Tony would think him capable of either one. 

He doesn't find out, because the woman, whoever she is, ignores Rogers' hand so completely, he almost feels bad for the guy. But only almost because that's not in his emotional repertoire for the evening and Rogers had come to _him_ , not the other way around.

"Don't forget we're here to talk to people, Stark," he says in the end, obviously caught off guard by the woman at his side, not that Tony understands, because this _is_ him, after all, and Rogers had surely gotten the spark-note-version of him from SHEILD or something. He's pretty sure they hand that thing out to people like candy, just so nobody is caught off guard by him.

He's about to say something to that effect, when the woman to his side speaks up, this time surprising both the dear Captain and him and woah, that's just not done. Only, apparently it is after all.

"Am I not people, Captain Rogers?" she asks and it's so obviously fake Tony has to smother a laugh with a cough. Ooh, he really, _really_ likes this one. Especially when Rogers is obviously uncomfortable with the question and only just doesn't start stammering when he tries talking himself out of the hole he ended up in.

Tony doesn't even pay enough attention to what he's saying to notice if he manages to do that or not, because there's a quirk at the corner of the woman's lips and something is so damn familiar about that, he doesn't know what to do with it.

The quirk turns into a smirk for only a moment before she starts talking.

"You're staring."

"How about I show you where I live?"

It's blatant but that's just how he is and anyway, if he stays where he is any longer, it won't be just one of Pepper's rules down the drain but two of them.

The smirk turns into a grin and it's delicious. It sends shivers up and down his back with a feeling he can't name, but it's a turn on.

"I think I would be amenable to that."

"Perfect. My driver is waiting just outside, he'll get us there."

She smiles and gestures for him to show the way. As he passes, he thinks he feels a touch ghosting up his spine, but he figures it's either her or the wind. He really hopes it was her, he thinks unconsciously as he sits down in the car, drawing the woman down next to him.

"What's your name, honey?" he says, because even if he'll have forgotten her name by the time they've arrived at his tower, it's still the nice thing to do. For a moment she looks at him blankly, before a smirk turns the corners of her lips upwards.

"Do you think you'll be able to remember it?" she asks, touching his wrist and slowly drawing her fingers down his palm until it's just their fingertips that are touching and why does he feel like she's trying to seduce him? He doesn't need to be seduced, he-

And then what she's said actually arrives at his brain and if he were capable of being embarrassed, that would be the moment for him to be just that. But as he is not, he's not.

"I promise I'll try my best," he says, nothing if not honest. She snorts, a mannerism so completely unlike what he'd expect from her and yet somehow fitting, Tony is thrown for a moment.

"I think the first hour will be the judge of whether you get to know my name or not, Mr. Stark," she says, looking out the window as if they're not driving to his tower to have sex right then. This is... different, Tony thinks, blinking.

Normally the women he picks up tend to be all over him, probably in an attempt to get him not to change his mind (as if he would ever) because he's just that awesome.

Sometimes there are women who play hard to get, and they're fun as long as the chase lasts. But this one treats the situation with a total disregard that is almost sobering and it makes Tony want to try to impress her which is just not on, because she's a stranger and what the hell, anyway?

He needs to be more drunk for this, he decides then and picks up the sparkling wine he had in the car for just these situations because for some reason most women seem to prefer it to liquor. Making a handmotion to the bottle, he looks at the woman.

"Care for some?" he asks, opening the bottle even though he doesn't really care for the taste of it. She looks at the alcohol carefully for a moment as if she's not quite sure whether to accept or not, but ends up nodding.

"Why not."

Ten seconds later, Tony can safely say she's the first woman who looked like she'd tasted something foul after sipping at the sparkling wine, just about pushing the glass back into his hands.

"It's not quite to my taste. Thank you, though," she says, tagging on the last three words like an afterthought and Tony wants to laugh at the disgusted face she's pulling. He only holds back because he thinks she'd probably throw the sparkling wine at his face if he does. And the sex would probably end up not existing.

The car stops and this time Tony is conscious enough to notice that they've arrived, opening the door before Happy can get there.

"Follow me and be prepared to be amazed," he says over his shoulder as he leaves the car, the woman beside him before he can even think about helping her out. For a moment he's disappointed – her dress leaves so many opportunities to see flashes of _things_.

She's standing next to him, looking up at the still unrepaired letters that once upon an invasion read "STARK" and will probably end up being "AVENGERS" now, but that's still in his head so far and so not relevant to his situation.

"I thought it would be finished by now," she says, and he thinks he hears a little disappointment in her voice. He smirks.

"Little too soon for that, sorry honey. If you walk past the tower in, say, two weeks, you'll have more luck with that."

He wants to get into the tower and his apartment, but she takes a moment longer to admire the tower from the outside before she looks at him once more and follows through the doors and then into the elevator.

* * *

When Tony wakes up, he's alone and that has to be a first. Usually he's the one to vacate the bed while the other is still sleeping, especially since it's still dark outside, so it's probably pretty early.

"Where is my guest?" he asks JARVIS, because Jarvis is clever enough to figure out that he means the woman (and he still hasn't gotten her name, not that he cares now). He's still half buried under the sheets, and the rest of the bed is cold, so she had to have left a while ago but he can't be arsed to leave the room to check.

There's silence for a moment and Tony almost wants to repeat the question, thinking that maybe he's finally found the point where JARVIS is unable to figure out what he's said from his mumbles, when he finally replies.

"Your guest, sir?"

Rolling his eyes, Tony forces the bad feeling that is rising in his gut down. Jarvis responded, all is well, what the fuck.

"Yeah, you know. Brown hair, green dress? Spent the night? Or what time of it we were busy, anyway."

Again, silence for a few moments and Tony frowns, because that's not right. Jarvis is not normally this slow to respond and he's about to ask the AI if something's going on he's not aware about, when the AI finally reacts.

"Sir, you came home on your own yesterday."


	4. Chapter 3

It's true.

Tony sits back in his chair, staring at the footage from the day before. There had been cameras everywhere, understandable with how many 'important' people had been at the event. He'd probably feel a little creeped out in retrospect, at the thought of so many cameras watching at all times, if he didn't live with his very own, self-built big brother.

He watches himself talk to the woman at the party, waiting for the few minutes that are important. He remembers the smile she aims at him on the screen before she says something (he doesn't know what, their voices aren't recorded. He can't remember from the day before either, he didn't pay _that_ much attention to her), he flirts (he knows that because he knows himself and he always flirts), she laughs, shakes her head. He says something again, she seems to think about it, then nods. 

Strangely nervous despite himself, clenching his hands on the armrests of his chair, Tony changes camera and watches as he leads her out of the room, as she smiles and says something. Then they're outside, she gets into a car that is not his and drives away. He gets into his own car, Happy drives him home.

That's it. That's all there is. Nothing strange about it, just the fact that he could have sworn he'd taken her home the day before, but no footage of him taking _anyone_ home and that's just not right, because...

He thinks back to the morning, to how he'd woken up in his bed. Not naked, he remembers and wants to hit himself. How had he not noticed?

There's something crawling down his his neck and he doesn't even think before slapping it, only startling when it hits his skin and nothing else, the feeling suddenly gone. There is no insect lying anywhere on the floor and there's nobody in his lab who could have played a trick on him. Shaking his head, letting out a snort at his own behavior, he turns back to the screen. Weird. He could have sworn it had been a touch...

 _"Sir?"_ Jarvis asks and Tony thinks this might be the second time he'd said that because there's something almost chiding in his tone at not being paid attention to.

“I just thought she'd come home with me, is all,” he says, half to himself, to hear it once more, because he can't believe himself and half to... what, unsettle Jarvis? Because he's sure that's what his words do.

_"Should I call Doctor Banner?”_

The question comes after a few moments of silence and Tony should have seen it coming, because he trusts Bruce and Jarvis knows that. But his mind whispers _'Maybe not suited for the Avengers Initiative, after all'_ and no, he doesn't want anyone to know about this. All of this, even if it probably isn't related. It just points to the same thing, really. That he's going crazy, if he's honest with himself, which... ha-ha.

“No Jarvis, thank you,” he says, still staring at the screen, like the woman will suddenly appear if he just stares hard enough. That would solve that problem, at least, he thinks, somewhere between hysterical and darkly amused.

_“Sir, are you-”_

“Yes, I'm sure. Now get me what SHIELD figured out about Loki's magic. I want every little note they have on it. And while you do that, search through the databases for the woman I talked to, yesterday.”

_“I'll be starting right away, sir.”_

Jarvis sounds almost resigned, but Tony doesn't care about that. He can't do anything about the fact that he thinks he left with the woman, yesterday, not right now. What he's doing might be considered stalker-ish by other people, but he doesn't want to call her or see her again or anything. He just wants to know who she is. Like maybe that will make the whole situation a little less surreal. 

And while Jarvis is searching through the data, he can start trying to figure out the other stuff that's been going on. Maybe Loki had left a spell on him back when he'd been down on Earth or something....

* * *

A hand comes down on Tony's shoulder and he startles so badly his fingers slip from the screen and he slides the document he'd been reading to a screen on the other side of the room. Slapping the hand that touched him, he turns the chair around, almost expecting there to be nobody, even though he'd actually hit skin this time, and not just his own, either.

Rogers looks at him, startled and if it wasn't so different from what he's gotten used to the Captain being like, he'd almost say the man was flustered. Ignoring him for the moment, Tony turns to where one of Jarvis' cameras is hidden, instead.

“Jarvis, why didn't you warn me?”

A glance tells him that now, Rogers definitely looks flustered, if also a little annoyed.

_“Sir, I did, but you seemed... preoccupied.”_

Tony is glad Rogers doesn't know Jarvis well enough to hear the concern in his voice. It's enough that Tony can hear it and it makes him queasy inside, like that is the ultimate sign that something's wrong, which is ridiculous.

“Anyway, what are you here for?” he asks Rogers, because he doesn't want to discuss this with Jarvis now, when Captain America is here to see it, since it's probably going to involve some stern talking to _from_ Jarvis because he refuses to tell anyone about his zoning out and... things.

Steve looks at him with a frown and for a moment Tony almost panics because he can't remember anything that deserves the disapproval, but maybe the fact that he's hiding some things from the team and he thinks, that must be it. 

But then he remembers that's irrational, because nobody but Jarvis knows about what's going on and Jarvis can't exactly tell, because Tony is his creator and made sure of that. So even if he's been acting weird, they're very likely to simply put that down to him being eccentric (which damn well is his right, because he's filthy rich).

“It's about you vanishing from the benefit yesterday.”

Oh, right. There was that, of course. Tony snorts, rolling his eyes and fiddling with a pen that he has no idea where he got from, and when.

“What about it?”

When he attempts to turn his chair back around to the screen, Rogers snags the back of it and leans down in his face until Tony is tempted to remind him of the concept of personal bubbles.

“I believe the reason for our being there was to socialize. What you did was definitely not part of that.”

Tony opens his mouth to point out that technically, he had been socializing, only it had been with just one person, but Rogers is looking at him like he's one second away from decking him, so he thinks twice about it.

“What you did was flirting and sulking off when she turned out not to want to go home with you.”

“Hey, that's-” _not what happened_ , is what he wants to say, but he stops because he can't actually be sure about that. After all, he has no idea what really had happened the night before, because what he thinks happened, is obviously not the truth. So he just keeps sitting there like something is going to suddenly come to him – which it doesn't, obviously.

Rogers finally sighs and shakes his head.

“Listen, Tony,” and woah, when had he stopped being 'Stark'? Stop that, Rogers. It's too soon for that kind of familiarity. “You can't just disappear on Avengers business, even if it's just an event. We need to know we can trust you.”

 _To be where you should be, when you should be,_ is left unsaid, but it hangs in the air so plainly, Tony feels like he could pluck it. He has the irrational urge to laugh in Roger's face. Was he really trying to guilt trip him?

If so, he was in for disappointment, because if Pepper hadn't been able to guilt trip into being _more responsible_ and _acting like an adult_ while they'd been together, then Rogers sure wasn't, now.

Some of his thoughts must have been reflected on his face, because Rogers' shoulders drop in the universal sign of 'I'm disappointed in you, Tony' and he finally takes his hands from the chair.

“Fine,” he sighed, shaking his head and turning to leave his lab. “You know what? Do what you want. I don't care.”

 _But you obviously do_ , Tony almost says, because Rogers sounds frustrated and it obviously bothers him that he hadn't gotten through to him. There's a short moment where he almost feels bad for the guy, but then he turns back to the screen and concentrates on SHIELD's data again and the moment is over.

It's an afterthought that causes him to pause, frowning thoughtfully.

“How did he get in here, anyway?”

“You left the door open, sir.”

The thing is, Tony can't remember whether or not he did it. He checks Jarvis' programming to make sure he can't lie to him, just to be safe.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he'd swear a voice is laughing.

* * *

The woman is a scientist from Norway. Her name is apparently Nora Svensson and she works on a marine boat. She had been in New York by chance and been told to attend to get in contact with other people, maybe some investors, even.

It's at that point that Tony stops looking, because that would be stalking. There's nothing weird about the woman. She's normal, almost boringly so.

Tony is weirdly disappointed. And the fact that he can still remember what her naked skin felt like under his hands is disquieting, considering he's never felt it.

* * *

He doesn't sleep well that night. It shouldn't come as a surprise, but he'd been hoping, nonetheless. The last two nights had been dreamless, after all.

A constant feeling of being hunted follows him even into his waking state. Every time he wakes, he finds himself out of breath, heart beating a frantic rhythm in his chest. More than once he puts his hand over the arc reactor to assure himself that it won't fall out due to the fast heart beat.

He doesn't keep count of how often he awakes that night – mostly because sometimes he's barely even awake before he falls asleep again, and into another dream.

When Tony finally wakes up, it's late – even for him. He'd gone to bed late, in hopes of falling asleep quickly and deeply, but even so he'd slept a lot longer than usual for him. And still, he feels worse than before going to bed and if it weren't for the agitated buzzing under his skin, he would have straight gone back to sleep, dreams or not.

Trying to push the faceless horrors from dreams he cannot quite remember from the forefront of his mind, Tony sighs, moving into the bathroom. Looking into the mirror absentmindedly, he's about to move towards the shower when he startles and jerks his head back to the mirror.

For a moment he thinks it's one of the faceless horrors standing right behind him, looking over his shoulder, looming. He stares and it feels like there's ice in his veins, the shock he feels so profound. 

Then he recognizes his shadow in the featureless mass behind him. The fact that the first thing he feels is relief, is probably not a good sign, just as being able to actually see the shadow now, instead of just glimpses in the corner of his eyes, is not a good sign.

Sending the figure in the mirror a wary glance, then looking behind himself just to see nothing at all, Tony decides to leave the shower for later. The shadow might still be barely more than a formless blob, but he doesn't particularly want to shower when it's so obviously there, anyway. He decides to go to the lab, instead, because he might not have found anything noteworthy as of yet, but he's only halfway through SHIELD's files still.

Sighing, he falls into the chair as he asks JARVIS to call up what he'd been working on the day before. As he waits for the files to finish opening, he looks through JARVIS' code absentmindedly, to see if the almost overbearing concern he displays is a faulty line or something.

A soft blip lets him know that the magic files (hah) are ready for viewing and he discards Jarvis' code file, because there are no mistakes in it, which is at the same time relieving and... not, because it means there is something for JARVIS to really be concerned about and, let's be honest, that's most likely Tony and his little case of imaginary friends.

Pulling a face, he turns to the files that are waiting for him, instead. Everything's a lot less... introspective, that way.

* * *

The thing with the shadow gets worse throughout the day. At times, he'll find himself forgetting about it, tinkering away, only to turn around and startle at the sight of it.

It gets to the point where it starts haunting him, weirdly enough. He finds himself turning around at odd moments, thinking somebody is following him, ready to snatch him away, coming for him, but it's always just the shadow that's his... well, shadow.

It just about drives him crazy, especially when in addition it seems like Loki's voice is drawing circles in his brain, uttering words right into his brain while Tony acts like a nutcase because he keeps looking for someone who isn't there. Nobody is.

He tries to tell himself that, but it doesn't work, just like peering over his shoulder to make sure he is alone doesn't work to calm him down. Over the next few days he stays in his lab as much as he can, but he has to go up and eat sometimes and those times are enough to make the other Avengers suspicious of his behavior. They've started staring at him, cautiously, like he's cracking. He isn't sure it's not true.

Bruce tries to talk to him once, concern in his voice and he sounds like JARVIS, Tony thinks, because his AI hasn't stopped talking to him in that voice for... a week, almost, and it bothers him. And now Bruce tries to get to the ground of it, to figure out what's going on and Tony doesn't have the time for this, he's busy trying to build something that can detect magic because if there's something that would betray Loki's presence it would be magic, because that's what the guy is.

So Bruce talks at him and Tony fingers around with wires and metal and he can't get the damn thing to work, because he doesn't have anything to work from. SHIELD's files had contained barely anything useful and even less he can actually work with, mostly because magic is fucking finicky and he's never had the time (or a reason) to try to figure it out beyond what little fiddling he did with the scepter and how would he know what Loki's magic is like, anyway? For all he knows his magic could be all around him and he wouldn't know and doesn't that make him a little paranoid, a lot actually and – _oh for fucks sake, what_?!

He realizes he's shouted the last three words when Bruce stares at him, a little hurt and a bigger part surprised, because Tony's never outright shouted at him, but he'd kept talking and Tony's trying to think-

“Are you alright?” he asks, and for a moment Tony is oh-so tempted to tell him that he's losing his mind. He's already opened his mouth when his brain catches up and whatever he wanted to say screeches to a halt somewhere on the way because he remembers that Bruce is not actually bound to keep his secrets and he doesn't want SHIELD to take the opportunity to put him into a nuthouse and it's enough if Natasha is somewhere around and hears or maybe Barton because he's taken to crawling through vents, if Jarvis is to be believed.

So he smiles brightly (too brightly, his brain tells him, but he can't tone it down because it feels like his cheeks are numb and he can't control his face), and nods.

“Sure, I'm awesome!”

Bruce doesn't believe him, it's there on his face, in the little crease between his eyebrows, but he doesn't say anything, thank god. He knew there was a reason why Bruce is his favorite. He doesn't try to get him to talk when Tony doesn't want to, he's awesome like that.

Bruce slowly nods, then turns to leave his lab (how did he get in, anyway?), turning once again before the door opens and closes for him.

“Food's just about ready. Come up and eat, will you. Who knows how long it's been since you last did that.”

Tony nods, but he's already distracted by what he's been working on for the last, oh, two days? And he knows he won't go up to eat, probably just as well as Bruce knows. Of course just when he's getting back into his zone, JARVIS interrupts.

_“Sir, you should eat something.”_

“Sure thing JARVIS. Later,” he mumbles, trying to move the screwdriver in a way that doesn't obscure all the light while he tries to fit two pieces together.

 _“I really think you should join the other Avengers, sir_ ,” JARVIS says again and if it wasn't so impossible Tony would almost say there's annoyance in his voice, but as it is he just hums and then the light goes out and he almost puts the screwdriver through his free hand.

“What the hell, JARVIS!”

 _“It seems like something isn't working_ ,” JARVIS replies calmly and Tony fumes because he was getting somewhere and this is damn important because it's stealing his sanity and what's JARVIS's deal anyway? “ _I will fix it while you eat, sir._ ”

For a moment he is tempted to keep working anyway. His hands be damned, he will not let his own AI dictate his actions!

Except he does.

It's barely five minutes later when Tony slouches into the kitchen, because even if there's a dining room somewhere, their team food things are always there. Steve says he likes it there better and even if all is still not well with the guy (he's probably jealous because Tony gets laid more than him, he thinks and smirks on the inside because he's too tired to actually do it) not even Tony can say no to him when those baby blues are put to use in full force. Damn Rogers.

There's actually a plate on the table, complete with cutlery and wow, he would have felt kind of like an ass if he hadn't come up. Only, you know, not. Because he wouldn't have known. And he would still be building on his magic detector. Dammit.

“Stop pouting or you get the vegetarian one,” Bruce reprimands mildly, pulling out two trays with lasagne from somewhere and Tony sticks out his bottom lip, looking up at Bruce from where he's sitting in front of the empty plate.

“But Brucey, I thought you loved me,” he wheedles, because he has to spend the time up here doing something and that's as good as anything else. Bruce rolls his eyes but gives him a generous serving of the non-vegetarian one. Success.

He notices how hungry he is after he's taken the first bite and starts wolfing down the food before Clint can steal it because he eats surprisingly much for, you know, being a normal guy and not some kind of chemistry experiment or Norse god. Anyway, his distraction is the only reason why he is actually surprised when Natasha addresses him.

“You don't seem well.”

She says it like there's nothing wrong about it but Tony still remembers how she used to work for him and yes, okay, he can hold a grudge (even if he is still a little impressed by her) and this is one of those moments because while he understands that she's with SHIELD first and foremost, what she did was not okay, especially if she thinks he'll just give out information about himself like candy now. He fell for it once, he won't do it a second time.

So he just smiles, though he doesn't doubt it looks like he wants to bite her, if the way Bruce draws up his eyebrow is any inclination and Steve is frowning like he is hurting his sensitivities which is fine with Tony, really, because he doesn't care about anyone's sensitivities but maybe Pepper's.

“I'm always fine, honey,” he says as he turns his eyes on the lasagna, voice sickeningly sweet because he's still a little mad at her even if the stunt she pulled was months ago and the others shift uncomfortably at his tone as well as the face Natasha probably makes. He's concentrating on his lasagna and he doesn't look up as he eats so he doesn't see.

It's good, the lasagna that is. Bruce must have been to Italy at some point, because there's something in it that reminds him of heat and flirty laughter and pretty women in barely-there bikinis. He's overdue for a holiday anyway, maybe he should go there for a while, try to relax and get all this stuff out of his head, just... 

_“I'll be coming for you.”_

It's a memory of the words playing in his head, reminding him why it is that he shouldn't just up and leave and he wants to scream because a holiday would be really, really nice right now and he _can't_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... is actually the last chapter I have finished for now. I've started on the next one, but I have a few things going on at uni that are... pretty urgent, and I'm trying to get a job, so I don't know when I'll get to write more. I _should_ be able to finish the chapter at some point during the next two/three weeks, though.
> 
> ~~...hopefully.~~


End file.
